Cold
by madame.alexandra
Summary: Han is being rudely awakened from a very nice slumber, and finds himself wondering if this is what it's going to be like for the rest of his life. TFA canon, sort of? With minor references to baby Ben. or rather, fetus Ben. H/L. Short, tongue-in-cheek.


_a/n: set...vaguely after Endor, TFA canon._

* * *

 ** _Cold_**

* * *

Han Solo was awoken from a very deep, nice sleep by an increasingly insistent _poke_ in his side. He tried to ignore it at first, when it began as just an irksome part of the vague dream he was having, but then it turned into the only thing he could focus on and the next thing he knew he was pretending to be asleep while the poking continued relentlessly.

Then, the poking turned into a slight pinch, followed by –

"Han."

The word was very quiet, very secretive – the kind of whisper someone used when feigning respect for sleep rather than actually being quiet and letting the person next to them get some damn sleep.

Han ignored it for a moment, because she didn't sound distressed.

However, the next pinch was accompanied by her foot nudging into his insistently and –

" _Han_ ," she hissed.

He finally opened his eyes, very slowly, very deliberately, and found her staring right at him – wide awake, wide brown eyes fixed on his impatiently. He looked at her silently for a moment, immediately sure, from the general lack of distress in her expression, that nothing was actually wrong with her and then pointedly grunted at her.

" _What_?"

She pursed her lips, pulling the covers around her.

"I'm cold," she informed him.

He gave her a mild glare, and shifted, sliding his arm around her under the covers. He pulled her close, tucking her head under his chin and against his chest, and made room on his pillow, closing his eyes.

She wriggled away, though, shaking his shoulder.

"No," she murmured. "I want you to turn the heat on."

He lifted his head a little, glaring at her.

"You woke me up to turn on the heat?" he asked incredulously, glancing behind him – the temperature control for the bedroom in her quarters was near the door; the little screen glowed at him innocently.

She nodded, shivering to underscore her point. She nudged him with her foot.

"I feel like I'm on Hoth," she added.

He gave her an annoyed look.

"Why couldn't you get up and turn the heat on without waking me up?" he retorted.

She sighed, giving him a very serious look.

"Because I'm naked, and I'll get colder if I get up."

"I'm naked, too!"

"You don't seem to be cold," she said logically.

She looked at him expectantly, waiting. He narrowed his eyes and rested his head back down next to hers stubbornly. She put her feet on him, ostensibly so he could feel how cold she was, and he yanked his leg away, scowling.

"What if I _am_ cold, then?" he argued.

"You're the man," she answered sweetly. "It's your job to do these things."

He laughed skeptically.

"Yeah, right, I doubt you'd take it well if I told you to cook my breakfast because you're the woman."

"In the morning, I'll be a Feminist again," she shot back. " _Han_ ," she whined fetchingly. "Please? I have chills," she showed him her arm. "See? Your wife has _chills_."

He tried sliding his arm around her again, leaning in for a kiss.

"Well, let's make them hot chills."

She elbowed him gently away.

"No, I'm tired."

"I thought you were cold."

"I'm tired, and cold, and in a few hours, I'll be sick," she sighed dramatically.

He gave her a withering look, and then sat up a little, giving a resigned look to the temperature control across the room. He sighed.

"What if _I_ get cold when I get up, huh? You think that's fair?"

She nodded.

" _Why_?" he demanded.

"Are _you_ having the baby?" she retorted loftily.

He frowned, considering her for a moment – no, he wasn't, obviously. He groaned quietly, got up, and trudged across the room to fix the heat, setting it comfortably enough that she'd be warm, but not high enough to make them miserable. He was back in bed in a minute, eyeing her intently. She smiled gratefully, inching closer.

"Happy?" he asked, feigning annoyance.

She nodded, slipping her arms around him. Her skin did feel a little cool, and Han ran his hand over her back, creating a little friction. She sighed tiredly, closing her eyes.

"So," he drawled quietly. "This how it's gonna be, until it's born?" he demanded teasingly – was every request for the next, oh, seven or so months they had left going to be followed by _'because I'm having a baby?'_

"I'm just preparing you, Han," she murmured primly.

"For what?"

She laughed.

"You think you'll ever get a full night's sleep again, after it's born?" she asked smartly.

Han shook his head – probably not. She clicked her tongue softly, and ran her hand over his shoulder.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," she apologized loosely.

He shrugged, pulling her closer. He didn't mind so much – he figured she had a right to demand these small favors of him, seeing as he'd had a part in this whole – procreation business, and when it was all said and done, she got the more difficult end of the deal. He pressed his nose into her hair, trying not to think too much about all the things that would change for them in the coming months - he couldn't linger on that now, he'd never get back to sleep; just remembering that they hadn't yet mentioned the quick, quiet wedding or the baby to anyone but Luke and Chewbacca was enough to keep him awake all night, wondering what the High Command was going to do to him.

He was half a heartbeat away from being dead asleep again when she sighed quietly, and squeezed his shoulder.

"Han – would you mind – now it's too hot in here…"

* * *

 _:D_  
 _too bad Ben ended up being TERRIBLE, am i right?_

 _-alexandra  
story #306_


End file.
